


I Think You're Fine, But You Could Be Better

by agent85



Series: HYDRA!Fitzsimmons AU [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: And Fitz Will Follow Her into the Dark, But No Actual Blood, Crack!Fic at Its Finest, Dark Humor, F/M, Humor, Hydra!Fitzsimmons AU, Jemma is Still a Mad Scientist, Talking About Blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 15:09:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3534020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent85/pseuds/agent85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now that he's got his bearings in Hydra's best lab, Fitz finally finds the courage to ask Simmons out. Simmons has a counteroffer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Think You're Fine, But You Could Be Better

**Author's Note:**

> Don't try this at home, kids. Any of this.

Fitz entered the lab and sighed in relief when he saw Kenneth assisting Simmons with a dissection. After two months, he'd learned that Simmons always needed somebody to play Igor, and as long as that wasn't Fitz, it was destined to be another wonderful day of death and destruction. Kenneth—Mr. Turgeon, as they were supposed to address him—was their supervisor, technically, but since Simmons and Fitz had become known as the greatest scientific minds in Hydra, he tended to do too much placating and pandering to give off any sense of authority.

"Morning, Fitz!"

"Simmons."

It was hard to keep her warmth from overtaking him, and soon he had a smile to match hers.

"Hello, Mr. Fitz," Kenneth greeted, but when he caught a glare from Simmons, he stroked his bushy goatee and added, " _Dr._  Fitz. I beg your pardon."

Fitz's smile widened as he shrugged. "No problem, Kenneth. What have we got here?"

Simmons looked up from her work to give him another grin.

"I think I've finally found a way to stabilize the Extremis serum! Hydra was able to capture someone from SHIELD's index—a psychokinetic—and his platelets might hold the solution to our little headache."

She practically jumped with excitement, though Fitz could see that her hands were still steady at their task. When he took too good of a look, though, he realized his mistake and instantly looked away.

"That's good news," he replied. "I'm sure management will be pleased if you can prevent any more assets from exploding in train stations."

Simmons wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Yes, that was quite unfortunate. Such a waste of resources, not to mention the questions that have been raised." She sighed in apparent annoyance. "I keep telling myself that one day, Hydra will finally be able to reveal itself, and then, at least, stunts like this would give us a little gravitas, you know, get people to really fear us properly."

Fitz loved the way she lit up when she talked like this, giving a brightness even to the large scar on her temple. There was something in the way her eyes sparkled that simply bewitched him, and he decided right then that this was going to be the day he finally told her.

How to tell, her, of course, was another matter.

"The only problem, Fitz, is that the platelets are in limited supply. Not only were the field operatives a little lacking in foresight, but the entire operation was compromised by SHIELD, I believe."

Fitz sighed, reminding himself that, while a nuisance, SHIELD was destined to fall soon.

"What do you mean, lacking in foresight?"

Simmons rolled her eyes. "They were attempting to completely drain his body. They should have taken him to a holding facility where he could be regularly harvested. As it is, we will have to find a way to replicate what remains."

"I see. So recapturing the asset is out of the question?"

Simmons huffed. "Impossible, unfortunately. According to the reports, the subject attempted to use his abilities after a significant amount of platelets were removed."

"And without the platelets . . ."

"Boom," Simmons finished, nodding. "So, as you see, replication should be our next step. I was hoping you could help?"

Fitz beamed at her. "Definitely."

***

It didn't take them long to make progress on a replication method, once the dissection was finished, logged, and Kenneth was shooed away to his small corner of the lab. But as they worked, Simmons had the distinct impression that something was amiss. At least, it seemed to her that Fitz kept looking over to her, giving her an odd expression, and sighing. After a while, it became something of a distraction.

"Fitz?"

"Hmm?"

She had to admit, the way his head snapped up was rather adorable.

"Is something wrong?"

Fitz blinked. "Um, no. Nothing's wrong." He put his hands on his hips, then at his sides, then at his hips again. "Unless you think there's something wrong, I mean."

"No," she said, raising an eyebrow, "but it does seems like you're somewhat uncomfortable. Would you like to tell me what it is?"

"Well," he coughed, as if the words stuck in his throat, "I was, was going to ask you something." She watched as he ducked his head and kicked the ground. How curious.

"Asked me what, exactly?"

He raised his eyes to hers long enough for him to see the blush in his cheeks before he went back to staring at his shoes. "I'm sorry, I'm . . . I'm rubbish at this, but is there any chance that you'd like to, you know, go . . . out with me? On a date?"

When he looks up at her, so cautiously, with his hands in his pockets, she wasn't sure whether to laugh or gape at him. Out of respect, she avoided doing either.

"A . . ." She waited for the shock to subside. "A date? With you?"

Fitz face fell. "I mean, if you don't want to, you can forget it, it's just . . ." He started to turn away from her, but she managed to grab his arm to keep him in place.

"No, Fitz! Please don't be embarrassed. I just, I was taken by surprise. To be honest, you are so far outside of my physical ideal, that I honestly never thought about it."

"Um," said Fitz, squeezing his eyes shut. "What?"

She was about to tell him flat out that, while somewhat flattered, she would be more comfortable setting him up with say, Greta from reception. But the expression on his face triggered an idea, and she found herself scrambling for her notes. She quickly found the folder in a drawer, hidden under enough tampons to ensure that neither Fitz nor Kenneth would dare touch it, even if they knew its location. She thumbed through the pages greedily, reading over her description of the ideal candidate, occasionally glancing at Fitz to ensure that the requirements were met. When she closed the folder to smile at him, she found Fitz shooting her a quizzical glare.

"Uh, Simmons?"

"Fitz, how do you feel about embarking on a different kind of adventure?"

When he didn't respond, she sighed at him.

"Well, Fitz, I don't really find you attractive, but maybe with some modifications . . ."

"Modifications?"

She looked him up and down. "Yes. A while ago, I was tasked with recreating the Erskine serum, and the progress has been slow, but I've had fairly promising results so far. However, I need to do some human testing before I can present it to management."

Fitz gulped. "The Erskine serum? The one used to create . . ."

"Captain America, yes. Such a pity that they chose Steve Rogers, isn't it? If they'd chosen someone with a looser set of morals, we'd likely be ruling the world by now." She sighed again. "Ah, well. I suppose that part of the fun is that we get to help Hydra get there."

Fitz pursed his lips. "I guess I agree."

"Of course," she continued, "if we were to inject you with the serum-"

"Wait, what?"

She turned to him, confused by his lack of comprehension. Wasn't he supposed to have an IQ comparable to hers?

"You want to pursue a physical relationship with me, and I don't find you physically appealing. But if my new formula works, maybe we can both get what we want."

"Whoa, whoa," Fitz interjected, waving his arms defensively, "who said . . . said anything about a physical relationship?"

The poor thing was shaking. She frowned. That would have to be got over.

"You asked me on a date, and a date implies . . ."

"A date implies that I want to  _spend time with you_. Get to know you better. The physical part would come after that. Long after."

She contained her laughter. "Oh, Fitz. I had no idea that you were such a romantic." She paused, considering. "That does sound nice, come to think of it, but your current physical state does still present a problem."

He looked at himself, then back to her. "What's wrong with my physical state?"

"Oh, nothing's _wrong_  with it, really. I'm sure that other women would find you attractive. You're just a little skinny for my taste."

Fitz sighed in apparent frustration. "I wouldn't be so skinny if they'd give me a proper meal."

Her eyes went to the mostly-concealed tattoo on his neck. She often forgot that he was still, technically, in the incentives program.

"I have been meaning to talk to Kenneth about that. But it would still take months of proper nutrition and exercise before I would have any interest, I'm afraid. Years, perhaps."

"So you . . . you wouldn't consider me based on my intellect and our shared interests?"

Simmons frowned. "I'm afraid not."

"Hmm. But if I take your Erskine serum, you will?"

Simmons smiled. "Fitz, I can assure you, if your body reacts the way it's supposed to, I won't be able to keep my hands off you."

That seemed to cheer him up a bit, but then he furrowed his brow.

"But what about love?"

Simmons shrugged. "What about it?"

"Well, if the serum works, do you think, uh, do you think you could ever . . . fall in love with me?"

Simmons had to think about that for a moment. "Well, I can't say that it was ever my goal in life to fall in love. Still, I think I'd be a bad scientist if I dismissed the possibility out of hand. After all, we seem to have compatible personalities, and I do rather like your eyes."

He ducked his head, blushing. "You do?"

She nodded. "Very much. And really, you are the best friend I've ever had. I wouldn't mind spending time with you outside of the lab, you know. It's just, well, a girl has her preferences." Most girls, at least, Simmons reminded herself. Greta seemed to be eager to take whatever came her way. It was impressive, really.

Fitz seemed to consider her words for a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek, then folding his arms.

"Not that I'd ever dream of hindering scientific progress," he finally said, "but I think you would agree that permanently transforming my physical state just for a date seems a little . . . excessive."

"Oh, does it?"

"Yes, Simmons," he answers, rubbing the back of his neck. "It definitely does. But, since you already said that you, that you'd be willing to, uh, spend time with me outside of work, maybe we can do that? It would just have to be one evening, and if you don't enjoy yourself, we can forget all about it."

When she looked him over again, she tried to ignore his underdeveloped arms and torso to instead see the scientist who had so easily wormed his way into her life. He made life much more interesting, if she was honest with herself. And he could make her laugh, which was no easy task. Why should she put that behind a geographical barrier?

"Okay, Fitz," she hedged, raising a finger, "one date. I'm not fussy about food, but I would like it if you could find some place out of the way, where we wouldn't risk be seen. I have a reputation to maintain, after all." She folded her arms at that, watching as Fitz turned a deep pink.

"That," he croaked, "um, that's . . . I can do that. How about tonight?"

"Okay."

"Seven?"

"Sure."

She watched him with curiosity as he very obviously suppressed a giggle, then walked off with what she could only describe as a swagger. When he was gone, she closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. The platelets, she supposed, would have to wait for another day.

***

Miraculously, Fitz managed to go the entire evening without acting like a lovestruck fool. Simmons even seemed to like the small Italian restaurant he took her to, though she remarked that the sandwich options were frighteningly unimaginative. With a little luck and a lot of fortitude, he managed to keep her laughing through dinner, and when they left to catch a movie, he caught the glimmer in her eyes when she clutched at his (frail) bicep. A few blocks later, she even let him lace his fingers through hers.

It was towards the end of the movie, when her lips and tongue were mapping the design of his tattoo, that he was certain his mission had been a success.

(He'd wait a few weeks to tell her that he was happy to be her Erskine guinea pig, after all.)

**Author's Note:**

> So, maybe this universe is perhaps, to quote Jane Austen, something "no one but myself will much like," but if anyone is inclined to do any doodles of Fitz with his tattoo or Simmons with her scar, that'd be cool. Or Kenneth's goatee! (And maybe I'd write you a one-shot with an unseen character of your choice. Spoiler: Coulson has a mustache!)


End file.
